The Tragic Tale of Prince Gregory
by Datrandomcat
Summary: A chronological series of events that led up to the heartless prince that we have all come to know. Though, I warn you, this isn't a happy story. In fact, it's rather...tragic. This isn't the story for you if you were looking for comfort or fluff. This isn't a fairy tale where everything is okay in the end. This is a tale of a vicious cycle. (Don't read if you haven't read prequel)
1. The Foreigner

**8 Years Old**

It was on Gregory's eighth birthday that he met Christophe.

The celebration was held in the courtyard on a bright, sunny day, decorated to its entirety with white and gold, the colors that represented his people. He'd wanted more variety to liven things up, but his father forbade it. They had an image to upkeep, be it his birthday or not. He was dressed in a white suit with aurelian trims his mother had picked out, stating there was never an off moment to impress. His golden hair was slicked back, and his perfectly aligned teeth - minus a few that were missing - were shone in a constant smile as he mingled with the adult crowd who all greeted him warmly with birthday wishes.

It wasn't until the end of the party that his mother and father pulled him aside and brought him to the main foyer, stopping in front of the door of a closet.

"You see, son - since you're getting to be a big boy now, we decided that you're ready for some responsibility." His father said with a smile.

"Responsibility?

"Indeed. You see, my knights came across a young boy about your age out in the wilderness." Gregory's eyes widened a bit.

"What of him, father?" He asked. His parents both smiled.

"Well, we've found that he's fairly decent at taking direction after some..._convincing_." The man cleared his throat. "We've also found he's not much of a talker, so at least he wont backsass. It's these reasons that we figured he'd be a perfect fit as your _first ever servant_." Gregory perked up instantaneously.

"A servant? _All my own?_" Gregory's smile widened suddenly. The man chuckled.

"Yes, my boy." He then looked at the queen. "My dear, will you bring him out?"

"Yes, darling." She smiled as she walked into a room that was just behind them, stepping out moments later ushering a small, clearly malnourished boy forward. Gregory's eyes widened as he gave the boy an appraising look. His expression told him he was incredibly lost and quite unsure of what was happening, and he found the way the boy dressed was rather funny. His hair was an untamed mane, his skin a light brown, and he had striking green eyes. He looked so foreign to what he was used to seeing. So unique. And that immediately caught his interest.

"Oh, I love him, father!" Gregory replied as he hugged his father's legs, and then his mother's. "I promise I'll take good care of him!"

"Now, son." His father said in a warning tone. "You have to remember that he's a servant. You can't treat him _too _well, lest he gets spoiled and might even think he has freedoms. You can't give servants an inch."

"Yes, father." He replied, nodding in understanding.

"Good boy." His father smiled. "Now, run along and enjoy the rest of your birthday. And make sure to keep the servant in his place."

"Yes, sir!" Gregory smiled before motioning for the boy to follow, but frowned when he didn't move. Upset with this, Gregory's father kneed the boy in the back, causing him to stumble forward and fall with a grunt. The boy showed admirable resilience when he simply stood back up, not reacting in any other way. He did, however, approach Gregory after that, causing the blonde to smile. And, when he began walking and motioned for him to follow once more, the boy did so. He grabbed a couple of his new toys from the present table and brought them with him, taking the boy up the two flights of stairs to his room. Once they reached it and Gregory opened the door for the other to enter, the other boy's eyes widened as he walked in. The room was gorgeous, complete with plush white carpet, maroon walls, and a deep red, queen-sized bed. A large dresser with a wall mirror behind it sat against one wall, and an intricate vanity sat on the other covered in various things that the boy couldn't identify. There was even a walk-in closet. He'd never seen anything like it. "Do you like it?" Gregory asked with a wide smile. The brunette didn't understand what he said, so he didn't respond, but the impression on his face told Gregory all he needed to know. He walked over to the middle of the room and sat down on the floor, motioning for the boy to take a seat in front of him, to which he complied. Gregory suddenly pushed a toy dragon into his hands. "You can be the dragon, and I'll be the knight who slays it, okay?" The boy merely inspected the toy he was given before looking up at Gregory, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Gregory gave him a disappointed look. "Hey, you have to do what I say." He whined. But the boy only continued to look at him blankly. Did he not hear him? "Do you understand?"

"Je ne sais pas ce que vous dites..." The boy finally spoke in a slightly gruff voice for the age he looked, though Gregory understood not a single word. It was his turn to look confused, though his eyes were wide with fascination.

"Whoa, what did you just say?" He asked, leaning forward. This caused the other to lean back a bit.

"Que faites-vous?"

"Wow...I've never heard anyone talk like that!" His elevation in voice seemed to make the other boy shrink back a bit. "Say something else!" He remained silent. "Come on, you have to do what I say. Just say something!"

"Je ne sais pas ce que tu veux...Où sont mes parents...?" He whimpered out. Gregory, not understanding his words, only seemed pleased as his eyes lit up.

"Incredible! Do you know how to say any normal words?" He asked innocently. "Like, what's your name, for instance?" The boy merely furrowed his brows again in further confusion and shook his head slightly, not understanding a word. The blonde pointed to himself.

"Gregory. My name is Gregory. _Gre-gor-y._" He sounded it out for him.

"Gre...gor...y." He repeated slowly with a puzzled expression.

"Yes,_ Gregory_!" He smiled. "And..._you are_?" He asked, pointing at him. The boy put a hand to his own chest where Gregory was pointing. He was silent for a moment, as if trying to piece something together, before speaking.

"_Christophe._" He murmured.

"Christophe? That's a really lovely name. Someone not from here, a little boy like me, has a funny way of talking, and has a great name...I probably have the coolest servant in the castle!" He smiled, seeing his words as a heartfelt compliment. Christophe said nothing and simply looked down, fumbling with the toy dragon in his hands. Gregory watched as he methodically traced his fingers over the spines. "So, is there any word you can say that's normal?" The brunette looked back up at the sound of his voice, but had that same blank expression. Gregory rolled his eyes. "I take that as a 'no.'" Then, almost instantly, he perked up, his eyes brightening. "But, perhaps...perhaps I could teach you!" Christophe's eyes widened a bit at his voice's change in elevation. "I've always wanted to teach! I'm very smart, you know. We could..." He brought a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "...we could stay in my room, and I could show you words and colors and teach them to you! Wouldn't that be fun, Christophe?" He was far too upbeat for the other's liking, but upon hearing his name, the boy simply nodded. "Splendid! We could start tomorrow!" He clapped excitedly before holding up his toy knight. "Now, _let's play Dragon Slayer_!"

~o~O~o~

For almost an hour, the two boys played, though it was more just Christophe half-heartedly pushing the dragon toy towards Gregory, making it move around slightly before Gregory's knight would come in and slay it. They replayed this same scenario over and over with little difference between each, but Gregory seemed to be enjoying himself. He was mostly just glad that he finally had someone around his age. Estella, Herbert, and Thomas were older, and weren't much fun. Philip, however, was _younger_ than him, so he deemed him to be too unintelligent to play with him. Their playtime, however, was suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps and grumbling outside of the door, catching both of their attention, and girl dressed in white and gold who appeared to be in her late teens with long, blonde hair was walking by the open door, her short heels clicking against the ground. A little blonde boy, only slightly smaller than Gregory and Christophe, trailed behind her dutifully. Gregory quickly stood and went over, poking his head out of the room as they passed by. "Estella?" Hearing her name, the girl stopped and turned on him with an annoyed expression.

"_What_?" She snapped.

"Could you be a dear and fetch me some bedding for my new servant?"

"Oh, the brat has his own servant, now?" She placed her hands on her hips. "You're way too young for that kind of responsibility, Greg."

"I'd appreciate if you called me 'Gregory.'"

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "So, _where is it_?" Gregory smiled and walked over to Christophe, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward so Estella could see him. Her face scrunched up a bit in distaste.

"Isn't he _stunning_?" The little blonde boy that stood next to Estella locked eyes with Christophe and offered him a smile, though it was not returned.

"'Stunning' isn't exactly the word_ I'd_ use to describe him." She walked up to Christophe and grabbed his chin tightly in her hand, turning his head and examining him. "He looks frail. No wonder he was given to you as your first servant. I'd give him a month, if even. I doubt he'll make it until then. Then your daddy will get you a new one." She rolled her eyes. "Since you're the spoiled brat prince, and all. I've been stuck with this weak one..." She said, motioning to the blonde next to her. "...and I don't think he'll last that long either. But you know what your daddy will say when _he_ dies? _Tough shit_. Then I'd wait forever to get a new one." She groaned before bopping the side of Gregory's head lightly. "_We can't all be lucky like you_."

"Hey! Christophe is going to last forever, won't you?" He asked, looking over at the boy, completely disregarding Estella's attitude towards him. Christophe simply looked at him once he heard his name and just stared.

"Can he not talk, or something? Wow, your dad really _did_ cheap out on you with this one."

"Stop talking about him like that. He _can_ talk, he just has a different way of speaking. And it's really cool! Watch-" He cleared his throat. "Christophe, say something." He then brought a hand up, making a talking motion with his hand like a puppet. Christophe furrowed his brows at him in confusion.

"...Qu'est-ce que tu fais...?" He asked. Gregory smiled brightly and pointed at him, looking at Estella.

"You see?!"

"Oh, I see, he's _foreign_."

"F..._foreign_? What's that?" Gregory asked, now the one to look confused. Estella rolled her eyes.

"God, don't you know _anything_? I thought you were supposed to be _smart_ or something." She then sighed, her hands returning to her hips. "It means he doesn't speak our language. So, we can't understand him, and he can't understand us." Gregory's eyes widened.

"So, he hasn't been understanding what I'm saying this whole time?!" He asked, bewildered. "I just thought he had trouble speaking!"

"Fucking_ imbecile_." Estella sighed, bringing two fingers up to rub at her temple. Gregory gave a thoughtful look to Christophe.

"Well...I did say I would teach him real words...and even though I think it'll be harder now, since he can't understand a single word I say...I'm still going to do it." He said with a determined smile.

"Uh, yeah, knock yourself out." Estella shook her head. Gregory furrowed his brows as he looked at her.

"Just make yourself useful for once and get him some bedding."

"Do I _look_ like a servant?_ I will do no such thing._" She snapped before looking at the small blonde boy next to her. "Philip, do as he says. Get some bedding for the other frail servant boy." The boy said nothing and just nodded, running off down the hall. "And get him some proper servant clothes, while you're at it!" She called after him before looking back to Gregory. "Oh, and by the way, what makes you think you can talk to me like that?" She chided.

"I'm the prince."

"Yes, and you're also a spoiled 8-year-old." She then placed a hand on her chest proudly. "I'm training to be an _advisor to the king_. And in a few years, when I'm 20, I'll be _official. _You still have a loooong way to go, brat." Gregory cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, but I can also have your training _revoked_ should I tell my parents of the way you're treating me. And who will they believe? Their dear son...or some stupid _advisor-in-training_."

"Oh, you impudent little-" She silenced herself, finding it not worth the risk. With a huff of aggravation, she simply turned and walked away. "When Philip comes back, tell him to find me! I'll be in the mess hall!" She called. Once she rounded the corner, Gregory turned to Christophe with a scoff.

"That's Estella. She's a bitch." He smiled. Christophe just cocked his head at him. _Right, he can't understand. _"Right, well, once we get you comfortable with your own sleeping spot and the appropriate attire, you'll be all set. We just have to fix the way you talk, and you'll fit right in!" He said happily, booping the boy's nose with a finger.

"_S'il vous plaît ne touchez pas mon visage._" Christophe snapped, jerking his head away slightly. Gregory put his hands up defensively, actually getting the message for once. Almost immediately after, Philip came running in with the requisite supplies he'd requested. _That was fast. Surprisingly, Estella trained him well._ Gregory turned to him with an appreciative smile.

"Thank you, Philip." He said as he took the items in his own arms. "By the way, Estella said you have the rest of the day off, so long as you stay out of her field of view. Have fun." Philip seemed to brighten up as he smiled widely, nodding and running back out of the room in the exact opposite direction of the mess hall. Satisfied, Gregory walked over to his bed and placed the items down. He pulled out some brown, ragged clothing that perfectly matched what Philip had been wearing. He shoved them into Christophe's arms. "Now you change. _Chaaange._" He said slowly, pulling at the collar of his own shirt before pointing at the clothing in the boy's arms. Christophe's gaze flickered between Gregory and what was in his arms before giving a reluctant nod. Gregory smiled at the fact that he understood as he ushered Christophe towards his walk-in closet and closed the door behind him. He then made his way to the remaining supplies on his bed. He took the biggest thing, which was a large, thick blanket made from fine fleece. He lied it on the floor before taking the blankets and draping them on top. He even took one of the hand-crafted goose feather pillows from his bed and placed it down with the small, makeshift bed.

"There, that should do it." He smiled, taking the opportunity to change into his pajamas before clambering up onto his bed as he waited for the boy. He seemed to take an awful long time, but after a while, Christophe finally emerged wearing the traditional servant clothing, his old clothes left behind on the closet floor. Gregory kicked his legs happily as they dangled off the side of his bed. "I made a place for you to sleep." The blonde boy smiled, pointing to the one on the floor. Christophe walked over curiously and stared at the little bed before moving to sit down on it, cross-legged. Gregory smiled brightly down at him. "I have a feeling you and I are going to get along great. I'll teach you everything I know, and you'll be the smartest servant ever!" Christophe just looked up at him blankly and cocked his head to the side slightly. The blonde gave him a sheepish look. "Then, uh...then maybe you'll be able to understand me one day...heh." Feeling it futile to say anymore due to the language barrier, Gregory just decided to sum up everything he was trying to say by sliding off of the bed and wrapping his arms tightly around Christophe - a universal gesture. The hug wasn't returned, but he kind of expected that. He separated from the hug and smiled at the servant boy. "Goodnight, Christophe." He said softly before climbing back up to his bed and getting under the covers, watching Christophe do the same in his own. With a content sigh, he closed his eyes, a small smile plastered onto his face.

He had high hopes for the future.


	2. The Stable Boy

_"Gregory!"_

The blonde sat up quickly in his bed at the shriek that sounded from down the hall, as did Christophe in his. The brunette seemed a bit more panicked as he took in several rapid breaths and looked around as if he didn't recognize his surroundings for a moment. He barely had a chance to calm down when the bedroom door was slammed open, hitting the wall behind it harshly. In stepped a rather pissed-looking, adolescent girl.

"Gregory, where is Philip?!" She demanded. Gregory rubbed his eyes as he sneered at her.

"Would you watch the paint on the walls? You'll chip it if you slam the door too hard." He scolded.

"Do I look like I care?! I told you to send Philip after me last night, and he still hasn't returned!" Gregory lowered his hand and looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"He hasn't?"

_"No."_ She growled, crossing her arms. _"So, where is he?"_ Gregory looked to the side in thought, and his eyes caught Christophe, who was huddled in a fearful ball against the wall by his bed. The blonde furrowed his brows and slid off of his bed.

"Oh, look, you scared Christophe..." He huffed, moving over to crouch beside him and place a hand on his back, but the boy jerked away from his touch.

"Oh, boo hoo, at least you know where your servant is!" She hissed. Gregory smirked at her.

"What, do you miss your little servant boy?" He purred.

"No, dimwit, I just shouldn't have to do everything myself!" She grabbed the door. "You'd better find him, and _soon_. You lost him, _you find him_." And, with that, she slammed the door closed. Gregory stuck his tongue out before looking back at the shivering boy.

"Christophe, it's okay..." He murmured softly, trying to touch his shoulder, but his hand was simply slapped away. The blonde sighed and sat down next to him, unsure of what to do. "I'm sorry she had to barge in like that, but she wasn't yelling at _you_." He knew the boy wouldn't understand a word of his, but he figured talking soothingly to him may calm him down. "If I was able to, I'd beat her up for even looking at you funny." He smiled to himself. "She's always mean. Always bossy. Sometimes, I think she wishes she was the princess or queen or whatever, and that's why she bullies me. But she can be nice, too. She has good and bad days, but the bad days definitely outweigh any good ones." As he rambled about the intricacies of Estella Havisham, he hadn't even noticed that Christophe had long since stopped shaking, and he was caught off-guard mid-sentence when he felt a weight on his side. He looked over to see the boy had leaned on him with closed eyes, his head nearly resting on his shoulder. Gregory smiled as he felt his heart leap at the thought that he had done as intended in calming the boy down and, perhaps, made Christophe like him a little more. He took note that it seemed the boy only liked contact with others when it was on his own terms, and Gregory could respect that. Still, he wondered if maybe, since Christophe was already leaning on him, it'd be acceptable for him to reach up and lightly pet his head. However, when he tried, the boy let out a small sound of discontent and jerked away from Gregory's side._ Right. Noted._ "Maybe we should get looking for Philip. He can't have gone far." He offered. Christophe simply looked at him and cocked his head, so the blonde stood up and motion for him to follow. He did as he was told and followed Gregory out of the room.

This was Christophe's first time actually going around the castle. He could only look around in awe as he mindlessly followed Gregory from room to room, trying to find the 6-year-old, blonde servant boy. He called his name over and over for what felt like hours. After exhausting every possible place he could be, they came to a door that led outside to a stony pathway. Gregory motioned for the other to follow as he made his way out and down the path, eventually coming to a large, white and gold structure. And, sure enough, in the field, he spotted the small blonde petting the snout of a horse and giggling.

"Ah, Philip!" Gregory exclaimed in exasperated relief, running towards the fence. "Finally, I've found you!" Philip turned his head and looked at the two, smiling widely and waving at them. But, before Gregory could open the gate to the pen, a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back.

"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, my prince." When he was released, he turned to see a 14-year-old ginger boy.

"Herbert, don't grab me like that." Gregory scolded. Herbert put his hands up defensively.

"Sorry, sorry, but I just couldn't let you open the gate. The animals could get out, and if my mentor saw that, she'd flip." He then casually pointed at him. "And why are you still in your pajamas?"

"I wasn't going to let them out. And that's none of your business." The blonde huffed. "Also, were you just keeping Philip here or something?"

"Not at all, dear prince. He meandered out here not an hour ago and insisted on playing with the animals, so I let him. He said he had special permission from you." Herbert smirked as he cocked an eyebrow.

"I said he was free yesterday, not forever." He grunted.

"Why do you need him so suddenly?"

"Estella came barging into my room this morning and nearly scared the life out of Christophe!" He snapped.

"Christophe? Who-" He began before cutting himself off as he turned his head and noticed the brunette boy standing off to the side awkwardly.

"Oh, right, I hadn't told you that I got a servant of my very own."

"Oh, how splendid!" Herbert grinned as he approached the boy. "Well, hello there!" He greeted kindly, walking up to him with a hand extended. Christophe quickly tried to back away as the stranger approached, but didn't realize the fence was right behind him, so when his back hit it, he panicked and suddenly lashed his hand out, slapping Herbert's away. The ginger boy quickly pulled back his hand and rubbed it.

"Oh, right. He, uh...he doesn't like to be touched."

_"Yes, I can tell."_

"Sorry, but he_ can_ be rather friendly if you just give him a chance. This is only his second day, and Estella told me that he was...for..._foreign?"_

"Ah! An outlander!" He smiled. "Well, that would explain why he didn't see my approach as a greeting." He chuckled, looking back at the cowering brunette. "Hm..." Herbert walked over to him and knelt down so he was more level with the boy. "Hey, there." He cooed softly. "Christophe, was it?" Hearing his name, the boy looked up, his eyes wide in anxiety and his body tense as it fought between fight and flight. "I'm not going to hurt you." He slowly reached out a hand to him and stopped it halfway between them so Christophe didn't feel like his personal space was being invaded, a smile on his face to show he wasn't a threat. Quickly, Christophe's gaze flickered between Herbert's face and slightly outstretched hand.

"You're not going to get through to him." Gregory shook his head and crossed his arms. "He won't even let_ me_ touch him, and I'm his _master!"_

"Perhaps you came on too strong right out the gate. It's like training an animal, Gregory. It just required _patience_." Herbert purred, his voice soothingly smooth and soft. Gregory was about to retort when his eyes widened in surprise as he watched Christophe slowly raise his hand and place it in Herbert's tenderly. Herbert smiled, deciding not to shake his hand as such an action might spook him, so he gently stroked the back of the boy's hand with his thumb. "That's it." He cooed, his expression one of satisfaction. "Now, we're gaining some trust."

"H...How did you do that?" Gregory asked in disbelief. Herbert looked over at the blonde with a smile.

"I've been training animals for five years now, which means I know how to calm one if it's spooked. Children are no different."

"That's _rude._" Gregory pouted.

"Yes, but results don't lie, do they?" He smirked, motioning with his head towards Christophe who'd since closed his eyes as Herbert lightly stroked his hand.

"Whatever." He grumbled, crossing his arms tighter. A sharp spike of jealously raked through him as he saw Herbert getting through to Christophe far quicker than he had. Maybe...he had been too pushy on the boy's first day, but...he'd just been excited to finally have a playmate his age. He sighed and looked out towards Philip, who was now sitting on the dirty ground and playing with a foal. "Philip, come on, let's go!" Philip turned to look at him before letting out a sigh of disappointment and standing, brushing what dirt he could from his clothes. He ran to the gate and walked through before locking it back in place. Gregory walked up to the little blonde servant. He liked Philip because, not only was he probably the nicest person he'd ever met, but also because he was also the shortest in the castle since he was only six, so Gregory got a sense of power from talking to him because Philip was the only person shorter than him. He placed his hands on his hips with a frown. "Philip." He began sternly. "I said you could have the rest of yesterday off, not today. You made Estella come into my room and scare my servant!" Philip wasn't one of many words. He rarely ever spoke, and when he did, it was in very short sentences. So, he was pleased that Philip had enough respect for him to actually answer this time.

"Sorry, my prince. It won't happen again." He bowed his head slightly. Gregory nodded.

"Good. Now, go inside and find Estella."

"Right. Good day, my prince." He replied as he ran up the stony path that lead to the castle. When he turned back, he saw that Herbert had finally let Christophe's hand go, and the two were sitting on the ground. Upon further observation, he saw that Herbert was showing the brunette a golden horseshoe.

"This is very special. If you keep it on you, it'll bring you good luck." He slowly proffered it to Christophe, which the boy took and examined it curiously. Gregory felt that sharp feeling in his insides and grimaced a bit. They're basically best friends already, and the blonde could feel his chest twisting in envy. He decided to walk over and sit down on a nearby tree stump so he could be part of this, too. Though Christophe couldn't understand what Herbert had told him, he clutched the horseshoe close to his chest and looked up at the ginger teen.

_"Mien?"_ Herbert could speculate that he was asking if it was now his, so he nodded with a pleasant smile. Christophe looked back down at the object he held against his chest, and for a brief moment, Gregory could swear he saw the boy smile first the first time since he'd arrived.

~o~O~o~

"No, Christophe, it's _green_."

"Gren..."

"_Green._"

"Gr...eeeen."

"Yes! Very good, Christophe!" He smiled proudly. It was later that same day and Gregory currently had several colored blocked littered around them. Gregory set the green one down and picked up a red one. "What's this one again?"

"_Rouge_...eh...um...r..._red_?"

"Yes! Very good!" He set it down and picked up a blue one. "And this?"

"Eyes." He responded immediately. Gregory looked at him, puzzled.

_"Eyes?"_ He questioned. Christophe nodded and pointed at Gregory's face.

"Eyes." He repeated. _"Jolis yeux."_

"I-...yes, my eyes are this color, but _what is it_?"

_"Bleu."_ He answered with slight enthusiasm.

"Yes, very good, but it's pronounced _'blue.'_"

_"Blue."_

"Wonderful! You're making a lot of progress, you know." He smiled widely at Christophe. He was pleased to see that the brunette was actually trying, almost like he had an actual desire of his own to learn. He already had most of his colors down, despite a few slips when it comes to pronunciation. "Well, I think it's lunchtime, now. Servants aren't allowed in the royal mess hall, but I promise I'll bring something up for you." Gregory said as he smiled at him. He then held up a hand. _"Stay."_ Christophe gave a curt nod as he got the message, and once Gregory walked out of the room, the brunette stared down at the blocks on the floor, his eyebrows furrowing a bit.

_"Je promets d'apprendre, mère..." _He murmured to himself. _"Comme tu me l'as dit..."_


	3. IMPORTANT NOTICE

Hello people!

I know I have kind of fallen off of the face of the Earth, but do know that I still hold this story dear!

I just started at my second college, and with all of the Corona and craziness happening today, things have just not been working in my favor, so I apologize.

But know I have not forgotten about dear Prince Gregory and Christophe, as well as the other characters! In fact, I have something to offer!

**To all interested, check out my new South Park Instagram AU coming soon: Dominion Park! It is based on the fanfic!**

**Just search it up on Instagram and follow along on this interactive journey where you can _personally_ ask the characters questions and see what the plot has in store!**


	4. The Cotswolds

Three weeks had passed, and over that short amount of time, Christophe had grown used to being around Gregory and his daily regiment he was to follow. Now that he had been there for a bit, he was expected to do certain things lest he be punished by the blonde's parents, such as help prepare Gregory for each day, clean Gregory's room which, in itself, was not a hard task as he typically kept his room immaculate, and keep him entertained. However, his main job was to stay right by Gregory's side at all times should he ever need anything. To rarely let Gregory lift a finger to do anything for himself, though Gregory insisted he _could_ do things on his own.

The mundane regiment of every day was disrupted, however, when Gregory walked into his room with an excited expression. Christophe looked up at him from where he sat on his makeshift bed, raising his eyebrows a bit in question.

"Oh, Christophe, you'll never believe what I've been told!" He said excitedly. "Our neighbors to the far west are visiting! I mean...they're visiting for boring stuff like...politics and such, but mother said they also have kids! Maybe they'll want to play with us! They'll be here within the hour, so we have to hurry." Christophe simply cocked his head, only having understood maybe three words of that. "Mother said I have to wear a suit, though. I haven't a clue why, they're only staying for dinner to talk things over, but as mother always says: there's never an off moment to impress!" He chirped as he moved over to his closet and walked inside. "Ah, here it is!" He said as he grabbed the clothes he was looking for, and Christophe recognized it as the suit the boy had worn on the day they met.

"Like." Christophe commented. Gregory looked to him with a smile.

"You do? I never really liked this thing, it's a bit too...boring. I'm tired of everything being white and gold. I want to wear something with actual color for once. But I'm glad you like it. I'd give it to you if servants were allowed to wear nice clothes." He sighed and walked over to his bed, laying the clothes out on it. He took off his shirt and pants and motioned to the brunette. "Christophe, help, please." He said as he slipped his dress pants on. Christophe walked over and buttoned his pants before helping him into his undershirt, and then his suit jacket. As Gregory grabbed his belt and clipped it around his waist, Christophe grabbed his tie and fastened it around his neck so it hung neatly in the middle of his chest.

"So, how do I look?" Gregory asked as he struck a sophisticated pose. Christophe took a step back and tilted his head as he gave him an appraising look.

"Pretty." He concluded.

"Aww, thanks." Gregory grinned, looking down at his clothing and brushing it off. "I just need to put on the matching shoes and comb my hair, and I'll be good to go!" He said as he walked towards the closet again to grab his shoes. "It'll be quite hard to play in a suit, especially when I'm not allowed to get it dirty, but what mother says, goes!" He chuckled with a shrug. Once he was all ready, he walked over to Christophe and offered his hand to him, knowing better than to simply grab his hand. "Come on." Christophe hesitated before placing his hand in Gregory's, and the blonde smiled at him as he led him out of the room and down the stairwell. All about, castle staff were rushing from place to place, trying to prepare. This other kingdom must be a big deal. Christophe furrowed his brows as he saw banners that said things he couldn't read and decorations that were, for once, not white and gold, but light blue and silver. How odd. As they walked, they were stopped by the sound of the queen's voice.

"Gregory!" Both turned their head to see the woman clad in a fine silk dress that was white with gold trims, of course. No wonder Gregory grew tired of the mundaneness of it all. She walked towards them and bent down slightly. "Oh, you look so dashing, my boy." She then grimaced a bit and motioned to Gregory and Christophe's connected hands. "Gregory, do try to limit your contact with your servant. Especially when the Cotswolds arrive." Gregory frowned at that, but released Christophe's hand.

"Sorry, mother."

"That's my boy." She smiled. "Now, do try to be on your best behavior. They are our guests, and we want to impress them. Show them what a charming young lad you can be, alright? And while the chefs are preparing the meal, I want you, Estella, and Thomas to entertain their children as the adults discuss matters. You are not to disturb us. Can you do that?"

"Yes, mother." He replied, straightening his posture slightly.

"Good. Today could start a change for the future of our kingdoms." She said happily and she patted her son's head before walking off. He turned his gaze to Christophe.

"What do you think she means by that?" He asked. Christophe merely shrugged, though it was more from lack of understanding the question. Gregory simply sighed and looked ahead. "Well, I suppose we should head to the main foyer. They will be here any minute." Before he could start walking again, Christophe reached out to grab Gregory's hand again, but the blonde moved his hand away. "Sorry, Christophe, not around others. Mother said so." He said apologetically as he began walking away. Christophe gave a small frown before following close behind him. As they entered the foyer, they saw guards were already stationed by the doors, as were Estella and a boy Christophe had never seen before that was dressed very similarly to the loud, blonde girl. They had their heads titled up, arms tucked neatly behind their backs, and their eyes straight ahead as they remained unmoving. They both looked quite elegant and regal.

Soon, the king and queen walked up behind Gregory and Christophe as several horses could be heard approaching the castle. Gregory shifted uncomfortably in his suit. A few moments later, there was a bellow of horns, and the castle doors were opened by the guards. In stepped an elegant man and woman dressed entirely in blue and silver. The man had brown hair and dark eyes that looked surprisingly friendly. The woman next to him also had brown hair, though there were streaks of grey laced throughout it that only added to her charm. Her eyes were a deep hazel, and her expression was also kind, despite how serious they both looked. Estella and the similarly dressed boy both bowed, as did the guards. Gregory looked up to see his parents bowing respectfully, so he did as well and motioned for Christophe to do the same. The visiting king and queen bowed in return.

"My, what a lovely home you have." The woman commented as she looked around once everyone had stood up straight again.

"We do try." Gregory heard his mother comment.

"Yes, and we're quite excited to speak of your proposition." The man said with a pleasant smile before turning and looking behind them. "Mark. Rebecca. Come."

"Apologies, our children are a bit shy. Despite their age, they've never traveled before." The woman chuckled.

"Oh, no worries, we'll make them feel right at home!" His mother said with a wide smile. After a moment's hesitation, two older children walked through the doorway; a boy and a girl. Gregory's eyes widened a bit. For some reason, he'd expected them to be younger. "Our son and advisors would be happy to entertain them while we talk."

"Oh, wonderful!" The woman said as she placed a hand behind each child and gingerly nudged them forward as the guards closes the castle doors behind them.

"Come, we shall discuss in my study." His father offered, and the man and woman nodded, following his parents and leaving Gregory alone with Christophe, the two advisors, and these two strangers. He wasn't sure what to do, so he was thankful when Thomas stepped in. He never smiled, but his expression was still somehow welcoming.

"Welcome to our land. We do hope the trip wasn't too arduous."

"Oh, not at all, thank you." The girl, Rebecca, he assumed, said with a pleasant smile. Estella walked up to stand by Gregory wordlessly as Thomas took charge.

"Well, would you like me to take your coats?" He asked.

"Right, of course." The boy, Mark, said as he shouldered his coat off and handed it to Thomas before helping his sister with her coat. Thomas took both coats and brought them to a nearby closet where everyone kept their coats and hats.

"Would you like to come with us to the lounge area?" He asked as he set the coats in the closet.

"That would be lovely." Rebecca said softly.

"Right, then, come along." Thomas said as he motioned for them to follow. The two siblings followed behind him as he walked off. Gregory wondered why Estella wasn't saying anything, but didn't think too much on it as he, Christophe, and Estella followed behind the siblings. After a walk up a flight of stairs and down a long corridor, they came to a large, gorgeously decorated room, a fireplace crackling on the far wall, and furniture all around ranging from comfy chairs, couches, loveseats, and even futons that were all beautifully upholstered. The two followed Thomas in, looking about the room in awe.

"How charming." Rebecca commented. Gregory walked in with Christophe and sat down with him on the nearest loveseat so that no one would be able to sit with them. He was disappointed about these two to say the least. He'd expected them to be kids like him so that, maybe, they could play, but he bet they were going to be boring like the adults and talk about adult stuff instead.

"You may sit wherever you like." Thomas offered. Rebecca and Mark took to sitting on a nearby couch. Estella sat by Thomas across from them. The blonde girl seemed to be looking between Rebecca and Gregory with disdain for a reason the young prince couldn't fathom.

"So, please, tell us about yourselves." Rebecca suggested. "If we're to be allies, it may be nice to know some of the castle's more influential inhabitants." She smiled

"Oh, splendid idea." Gregory straightened when Thomas' eyes locked onto him. "I believe the prince should go first."

"U-uh..."

"Go on, tell them about yourself." Thomas urged.

"Uh...w-well...my name is Gregory...uh...I'm 8 years old...and I like to learn new things. I also like drawing and coloring." He said nervously. Rebecca and Mark both smiled at him.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Prince Gregory." Rebecca cooed. "And who's your little friend next to you?" That's when Estella seemed to finally butt in, only to run her stupid mouth.

"Oh, don't concern yourself with him, he's just a servant." She commented.

"Nonsense." Mark began. "A servant is a resident of a castle like any other." Estella and Thomas were both a bit taken aback by that. Gregory stuck his tongue out childishly towards Estella before smiling at the two siblings.

"His name is Christophe, he's 9 years old. He's foreign, so he doesn't speak like us, which is kinda cool, if not frustrating at times. He helps me with _everything._ He's shy and doesn't like to be touched, but he's a great companion." He looked over at the aforementioned boy only to see him staring downwards and mindlessly fiddling with his hands and the bottom hem of his shirt, completely disinterested in what was going on.

"Oh, how precious." Rebecca said with a kind smile. Estella and Thomas both gave them a strange look, but didn't make it apparent. "And what about the two of you?"

"My name is Thomas, and this, here is Estella." Thomas said as he motioned to the girl sitting next to him. "We're both training to be the king's closest advisors."

"Yes, apologies for my rude interjection, but I'm rather curious about that position." Mark cut in. "Are there senior advisors that train you?"

"Oh, no worries." Thomas answered. "And, no, we're trained by the king and queen themselves."

"And what, exactly, does the position of advisor entail?" Rebecca asked. Gregory sighed as he looked over at Christophe again. This is what he'd been afraid of. They were talking about boring stuff that he didn't understand, nor had any interest in doing so.

"Oh, well, we are heavily educated in politics and the law. We're the right hand men...er...man and woman...of the king and queen so, should they need us for anything, we're there. We help them with battle plans, everyday planning, we're in charge of setting up for events, and should the king and queen fall ill or embark on a journey to another kingdom or land, we're to take charge for whatever time necessary."

"Oh, how exciting!" Rebecca said with a wide smile.

"Do you not have advisors in your kingdom?"

"Oh, heavens, no." Rebecca answered. "Our parents had something similar before we were born, but they weren't called an advisor, they..." She then turned to her brother. "Have you the foggiest as to what our parents called them?" Mark shook his head.

"It's not even on the tip of my tongue." He answered. Rebecca nodded and waved a hand dismissively.

"Right, well, it didn't end very well. Because we weren't born yet, there were no heirs to the throne, and what ended up happening was, because of how close they were to the king and queen, they tried usurping the throne in a _coup d'état_." Gregory nearly jumped when Christophe's head shot up to stare wide-eyed at Rebecca.

"What?" Gregory whispered to him, but the boy didn't respond. Gregory cocked an eyebrow, but dismissed his odd behavior by looking back towards everyone else. He wished he could just skip this whole meeting to go back to his room and play with Christophe.

"Oh, how dreadful." Thomas tsked as he shook his head.

"Indeed. Luckily, they were quickly locked up and haven't seen the light of day since." Mark replied.

"No execution?" Thomas asked. Rebecca's eyes widened.

"Oh, no, we don't promote execution in our kingdom."

"What?"

"We believe it to be immoral." She then shrugged. "But it's also because no one ever really commits crimes in our kingdom. Especially those heinous enough to be punishable by death."

"My, how interesting." Thomas said as he leaned forward a bit. Gregory rolled his eyes. _Not really. _With another bored sigh, he switched his gaze to Estella. His brows furrowed a bit. It was then that he realized that...she really hadn't said much of anything this entire time. And upon further observation, he noticed that her gaze was almost unmoving. It would flicker away for a few moments before immediately landing back where they initially looked. And when he followed her gaze, he saw that her eyes were solely locked on the girl that sat across from her. He cocked an eyebrow, wanting to say something, but knew better than to butt in rudely, especially when there were guests. "So, then..." Thomas continued. "...why don't you tell us a little about yourselves?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Mark said. "My name is Mark. I'm the eldest and next in line for the throne." He then motioned to the girl next to him. "This is my dear little sister, Rebecca. Don't let her gentle disposition fool you." He chuckled "She can be a rather feisty spitfire when she wants." Rebecca let out a soft giggle.

"While true, I'm only that way to you when you annoy me, which I'm afraid to say is often."

"Whatever you say, little sister." He smirked.

"You two seem fairly close." Estella finally said, her transfixed gaze wavering. "Never has there been sibling heirs here. Do you ever...bicker...as to who gets the crown?" She asked curiously.

"Heavens, no." Rebecca answered with a pleasant smile. "The truth of the matter is that Mark is next in line as his superior age grants him. Nothing can be done when it comes to succession, and that's a fact I'd come to terms with at an early age."

"I see." Estella responded. "How mature."

"Not that you'd know." Thomas snickered.

"Oh, shut up." She hissed. Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the lounge door opened, and Philip walked inside.

"Excuse me..." He began. "...but your meal is nearly prepared and will be done in 15 minutes."

"Thank you, Philip." Estella said as she waved him away dismissively. When Philip walked out, Rebecca looked towards the blonde.

"Is that another servant?" She asked.

"Yes, my personal one, to be exact." She said with a roll of her eyes. "He's pathetic."

"Oh, how can you say that? He's so little and adorable!" Estella's eyes widened as her statement wasn't met with gratification.

"O-Oh, um...what I meant was...that it's pathetic...how...differently he's treated due to his age! I always do my best to treat him with care and equality." She almost cringed at her own words, and Gregory rolled his eyes.

"Suck-up..." He murmured under his breath. Rebecca gave Estella a small smile.

"How thoughtful of you." She said, though it was clear she was merely being polite as she saw through the blonde's horrible facade.

"Well, I'm certainly famished." Thomas interjected as he clapped his hands and rubbed them together, trying to break the air before it thickened with tension and awkwardness. "Is everyone ready to head to the royal mess hall?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Mark replied with a small chuckle. "I suppose we should go and not let the food go cold." Everyone nodded in agreement and stood, Mark holding his hand out for Rebecca to take to courteously help her from her chair.

"Ugh, _finally_." Gregory sighed. That was the most boring thing he'd ever had the displeasure of witnessing. He couldn't even be part of it because he didn't know what the hell they were talking about. He wasn't much for politics, despite him being a prince. He stood and made a movement of holding his hand out for Christophe to take as he usually did when they were to walk together, but remembered his mother's words and moved his arm back to his side. "Come on, Christophe." Christophe sighed and slid off of the chair, following close behind Gregory. He tried to reach for the blonde's hand as was routine, but Gregory jerked his hand away, causing Christophe to furrow his brows in confusion and disappointment, but he didn't press. "I'm going to take Christophe to my room. I'll meet up with you in the royal mess hall when I'm done." He called as he began walking the opposite direction of the group. No one seemed to take notice or care except Rebecca and Mark, who turned their heads and waved him off with warm smiles. Gregory smiled back and continued on, and once they rounded the corner and were out of sight of anyone, Gregory instantly reached for Christophe's hand. Christophe perked up slightly and quickly grabbed the blonde's as they walked. Soon enough, they came to the boy's room, and he led Christophe inside. Gregory sighed and faced the other boy, moving his hands to his shoulders. "Okay, Christophe, servants aren't allowed in the royal mess hall, so I need you to stay, okay? _Staaaay._ I'll be back in a little while." And as he said that, he moved to hug Christophe tightly. The other hadn't expected the sudden gesture, so he made a poor attempt to lean away, but he quickly resigned himself to letting Gregory hug him, though he didn't return the gesture.

"Où allez-vous? Pourquoi _stay_?" He asked with a tilt of his head as Gregory moved away from him.

"That's right, Christophe, _stay_." The blonde said before walking out of the room. Christophe furrowed his brows in annoyance that he wasn't understanding him. He was doing his best to learn whatever fucked language the blonde spoke, so the least Gregory could do was learn some of_ his_ language for the time being. With a frown, he shuffled towards his little bed, eyes wandering the room. What now? Then, it was almost like a sign as he spotted a certain golden horseshoe sticking out from under his pillow. His eyebrows rose as he walked over and picked it up, flipping it over in his hands a couple times as if it wasn't the thousandth time he examined it. He tightened his hand around the item before looking up towards the door.

He knew what he was going to do.

~o~O~o~

After traversing the halls trying to remember the way and staying out of sight from any castle staff - which wasn't hard due to everyone being preoccupied with whatever event was happening - he finally found himself at the door that led outside. He pushed the door open and walked out, eyes brightening when he saw the familiar stone path. He hadn't been out here since the first time, and that was mostly because he stayed at Gregory's side, and Gregory never went out here. He also never left the room when told to stay, so even with his alone time, he never made an attempt to leave. But, here he was, three weeks later, walking down the path that led to the stables. He perked up when his eyes landed on the boy he recognized from before standing in a field, his expression always so friendly and his disposition always upbeat and happy. Clutching the horseshoe tightly, he jogged down the rest of the path and up to the fence.

_"Bonjour."_ Christophe chirped as he gave a small wave at the ginger boy. Herbert turned his head and his features immediately brightened as he saw the little boy.

"Ah! Uh...Christophe, was it?" He smiled widely as he walked up to the fence. "Well, you're certainly more bold than the first time we met, aren't you?" He chuckled. "I couldn't get a peep out of you last time, and now you're greeting me first? I'm impressed." He walked to the gate and stepped through before closing it behind him. He moved to the nearest tree stump and sat down, motioning for Christophe to join him. "So, little man, what brings you here?" Christophe didn't know what he said, so he shrugged as he moved to sit on the stump next to him. Herbert gained a thoughtful look. "Hm...how can I communicate with you...?" He looked away for a moment before turning his gaze back on Christophe. "English?" The brunette boy perked up slightly.

"Oui." He said with a small nod before holding his hand up and placing his pointer finger and thumb close together to show how little he knew. "Couleurs. Petits mots. Eh...little..." He paused for a moment. "...l-little...words..."

"I see. Gregory has been teaching you with some success, then." He said with a smile. "Speaking of Gregory, where is he? Shouldn't you be with him?" Christophe furrowed his brows, unsure of how to communicate an answer.

"U-uh...d...d-i-n-n-e-r...?" He said slowly.

"Dinner...? I...Oh! Wait, is the big dinner today? With the Cotswolds?" He asked. The term 'Cotswolds' was familiar to Christophe because that was the word he'd heard Gregory's mother use, so he nodded.

"Cots...wolds..."

"Yes, the Cotswolds are very important people. They're the only kingdom equal in wealth and power to ours. My...I never realized it was happening so soon, they only made the plans three days ago!" He looked to the side thoughtfully. "I may ask if I should take their horses into the stables for the time being. Those horses will need care. Pulling a carriage that far over mountainous terrain is surely a taxing feat..." He continued to ramble until his eyes once again landed on Christophe, having forgotten he was even there. "Oh! But surely that can wait. And, speaking of horses..." He said with a wide smile as he pointed towards Christophe's hand. The boy looked at Herbert's finger before following where it was pointing. He slowly brought up his hand that held the golden horseshoe. "I see you kept that close. I'm glad. But you shouldn't have that out in the open like that. A servant like you could get in trouble for having something like this, and I'll get in trouble for giving it to you." He said before grabbing the horseshoe and hooking it on the waistline of Christophe's pants before draping his long shirt over it. Christophe stared at where it was concealed with confusion.

"Hide...?" He asked curiously.

"Hide." Herbert responded with a nod. Christophe gave a small nod of understanding in return. "So, then, let's get down to the nitty-gritty. Why are you out here instead of in your room where you're supposed to be?" Christophe gave a shrug. Herbert sighed, trying to think of a better way to communicate what he was saying.

"Why here?" He asked simply. Christophe furrowed his brows for a moment. Those were two words he knew, and it took him a moment to register their meaning. He brightened up a bit and pointed at Herbert. "Me?" He asked. Christophe gave a firm nod. "You wanted to see me?" He asked with a smile. "Why?"

"_Amical_." He then paused briefly. "Nice."

"Aw..." Herbert swore his heart was melting. "Well..." He began as he gently poked a finger at Christophe's chest. "...I think you are very...eh...amical...as well." He said with a chuckle. Christophe seemed to perk up tremendously and it almost looked like he was smiling as he stared wide-eyed at Herbert. That was...the first time anyone had ever made a personal attempt to speak his language to him. He let out a small whine before suddenly lurching forward and wrapping his arms tightly around Herbert's neck. "Whoa!" Herbert laughed, nearly falling backwards as he hugged him back. "What happened to disliking being touched?" Christophe said nothing, but when he separated from the embrace, he looked at Herbert with a wide-eyed gaze of wonder.

"My...words..." He said softly.

"Your words? Your language?" He smiled and tilted his head. He never thought playfully saying a single word from the boy's native language would make such a difference. "You like that? Well..." He gazed at the boy thoughtfully. "...well, since everyone's trying to make you speak English, maybe I'll learn some of...whatever language it is that you speak." He chuckled. Christophe tilted his head. Herbert pointed at him. "You..." He then pointed to his own head. "...teach..." His point then moved to his chest. "...me." Christophe stared at him for a few moments with an analytical look as he tried to piece together what he said. He then brightened.

"My...my words...?" He said almost hopefully. Herbert gave a small nod.

"You'd like that?" He asked. Christophe suddenly gave an enthusiastic nod. "Excellent!" The ginger boy said excitedly. "You know, I've always wanted to learn a foreign language, but we never get foreigners out here. The only time they ever even enter this kingdom is if they're prisoners and, as a humble stable boy, I'm not allowed in the dungeon." He said with an almost sad chuckle. "It's almost as if you're heaven-sent, my boy." He brought a hand up and ruffled Christophe's hair lightly. The boy only seemed minorly bothered by the sudden, unexpected contact. "So, then, since you're here, is there anything you'd like to do in the short time before you have to head back?"

~o~O~o~

Christophe wasn't sure how long he was out there with Herbert, but he enjoyed every second of it. He helped him feed the horses their dinners, and afterwards, he was shown where Herbert lived which, surprisingly, wasn't even in the castle. He lived in what appeared to be a fancy shed behind the stables. Inside were, simply, a table, a chair, a bed, and...a rabbit hutch. Christophe was allowed to hold them and pet them. The only time he'd ever seen these animals were when his people hunted them. He'd never known you could keep them as pets, and it was then he grew a new appreciation for these animals. After that, Herbert allowed him to sit on the back of a horse, though he wasn't allowed to ride it; it's not like he knew how to anyway. And, finally, their time together ended with Christophe teaching him colors in his language, which was easy because, with Gregory having taught him the words in English, he could properly help Herbert get them right.

Herbert sighed as he looked up at the sky.

"Well...I believe it's about the time you should be heading back." He looked back at the boy. "Wouldn't want you getting in trouble for being out here. I had...a lot of fun." He said with a grin. Christophe nodded despite understanding maybe two words of that. "Come on." He stood and held out a hand for Christophe. The boy took it and stood as well, his expression almost disheartened. He didn't want to go back, but he knew he had to. Hand-in-hand, the two walked together, towards and up the stone path that led to the back door of the castle. When they reached the entrance, Herbert looked down at him. "Do you know the rest of the way?" He asked. "You can find your room?" Christophe gave a curt nod. "Right, then." Herbert said as he crouched down. "Hopefully, I'll see you soon." He smiled. Christophe said nothing and simply moved forward to hug him again. He didn't know when his next opportunity to come out here would arise, so he wanted to make the most of it. Herbert hugged him back, and when they separated, he smiled at the little French boy and tapped his waist where the horseshoe hung. "Stay lucky." He said before standing and walking off. Christophe looked down at his waist and felt the outline of the item through his clothes.

"Lucky..." He muttered, testing the word on his tongue. He didn't know what it meant, but he liked how it sounded. He exhaled deeply and turned towards the long corridor.

Time to head back.


	5. The Proposal

Gregory felt awkward at the table. His father sat at the head of the table while his mother and the other king and queen sat across from him, along with Mark. To his left was Thomas and two seats to his right was Estella. But he had been forced to sit next to Rebecca, who was directly to his right, for reasons no one disclosed to him. It's not that he didn't like Rebecca - he, for the record, thought she was very kind - he just didn't know why Rebecca had to sit next to him specifically, and not any other member of the other royal family.

"A toast to unity." Gregory's father said as he lifted his goblet to the air. Everyone else lifted theirs as well with a 'to unity', except for Gregory. He shifted uncomfortably as he attempted not to make eye contact with anyone as he stared down at his plate of decadent food. Once everyone had settled down again and began eating, it was quiet for a bit until Gregory's father spoke again. "So, we have some good news to share. It's been discussed between us and the advisors, and we've all come to a unanimous decision."

"Oh, it's such wonderful news." Gregory's mother said with a smile

"Indeed." The other queen added. "We could change the future of our kingdoms."

"Oh, how are you doing that?" Gregory asked, actually mildly interested.

"We're going to unite our kingdoms to become the ultimate superpowers. Think of it, Gregory..." His father said. "...the two wealthiest kingdoms in the land merging to become one! Could you imagine how powerful we would be as a whole?"

"And it would benefit everyone." The other king concurred.

"How do you merge kingdoms?" Gregory asked curiously.

"Well, there are several ways, but due to some fortunate circumstances, we're taking a particular route." His father said before pausing for dramatic effect as he smiled. "_Marriage._" Gregory's eyes widened a bit.

"Who's getting married?" He asked innocently. Both kings and queens laughed, and he even heard Thomas snicker next to him. However, Mark and Rebecca seemed just as confused at he was, and Estella just looked entirely displeased.

"Well, my son..." His mother began. "..._you are_." It felt as if time stopped.

"I...I am? To whom?" His eyes widened further as his mother pointed to the girl he'd been forced to sit next to. Rebecca stiffened.

_"Me?"_ She asked incredulously. "Father-" She said pleadingly as she turned her gaze to him. "...you're surely jesting..."

_"Father, I don't want to marry her."_ Gregory whined, but was drowned out by Rebecca and her parents.

"Darling, this is for the better of everyone. Don't you want to serve your kingdom?" Rebecca's father asked her.

"Father, he's eight! He's six years younger than me!" She cried. "And arranged marriage is hardly fair!"

"Don't raise your voice at your father, dear." Her mother warned. Gregory's father held up his hands.

"That's enough bickering, the lot of you." He then turned his gaze towards Gregory and Rebecca.

"Now, I know this is sudden, but this could really help our kingdoms prosper-"

_"I am not a pawn for you to play with!"_ Rebecca suddenly snapped, the first time her tone actually sounded even remotely aggressive.

_"Rebecca!"_ The other queen hissed. "Don't disrespect our host!"

"It's fine. This is shocking news, so discourse is expected." Gregory's father said in an understanding tone. "Look, we understand this is a lot to take in. But one day you'll be king, Gregory, and you need to understand that a king has to make a lot of choices, and sometimes sacrifice for the good of the people. And, when you're 16, you'll be of age, and you and Rebecca will marry. Your mother and I were arranged to be married. It's the natural order of things, son." Gregory furrowed his brows and slammed his hands on the table. He was fuming, and he knew words were going to come out of him that he knew he would regret, but the twisting anger in his gut overpowered any rational thought he had.

"I don't care! I'm not getting married to some girl I don't even know! You can't make me!"

"But, son-"

"No! She's way older than me _and she's not even interesting_! I don't want to marry _her_, or _anyone_!" He snapped before sliding off of his chair and storming out.

"Gregory! Don't you walk away from your father!" His father yelled in a booming voice, the blonde flinching from how angry he sounded, but it was when he heard_ 'Thomas, get him'_ that he tried to book it, but he wasn't fast enough as two arms quickly found their way around him from behind and scooped him off of the ground.

"Come on, you little brat-" He heard Thomas' voice, but he couldn't turn around, so he grabbed the boy's arm and bit down as hard as he could. "Ah!" The second Thomas dropped him, he darted for the stairs, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He didn't look back as he heard yelling from behind him, and kept running until he came to his room. Christophe's eyes widened as he saw Gregory run in and slam the door behind him and locked it, leaning his back against it and panting heavily. They widened even further when he saw a bit of blood smeared on his face. They locked eyes for a moment until Christophe quickly stood and walked over to him, hesitantly moving to put a hand on his back.

"Gregory...?" He whimpered. He could feel Gregory shaking, and he furrowed his brows in concern.

"He can't...he can't make me...He can't make me..." Gregory panted. Christophe was about to speak again, but was distracted as the sound of thundering footsteps could be heard approaching the door. The blonde instinctively pressed his back firmly on the door as there was a fiddling of the knob and slamming of a fist against the wood.

"Gregory, open the door this instant!" When he didn't answer, the slamming grew progressively louder. "Gregory, answer me! I know you're in there!" There was grunting as he tried to force the door open. Christophe glared at the door as he contemplated for a moment. Then, thinking quickly, he grabbed Gregory's hand and pulled him to the bed before pointing under it. Gregory looked at the bed, then at him, before giving a curt nod, moving so he could crawl his way underneath. No sooner had he done that did the door slam open, the lock busting and clattering to the floor. There stood Gregory's father, fuming mad and red in the face as he stalked into the room. He glared at Christophe, who immediately straightened and looked back at him. _"Where is he?"_ He demanded. Stone-faced, Christophe remained silent. Gregory flinched as he watched his father backhand the boy across the face before grabbing him by the collar. "You will speak when spoke to!" Even still, Christophe said nothing and stared blankly into the man's eyes. It's not like he could say anything that the man could understand anyway. Gregory laid there, frozen in fear, but he steeled himself as he watched his dear servant taking one for the team. He gulped as he couldn't let that happen when he did nothing wrong, so he slid from under the bed and stood up straight, fists clenched.

"Don't hurt him!" He demanded, though his voice was several octaves higher than normal from fear. "I'm right here!" His father looked at him before throwing Christophe to the ground. He walked up to Gregory with a disdainful look.

"Do you have any idea what you cost us?! What you cost your kingdom?! _Your people_?!" He snarled. "Because of your behavior, the Cotswolds are leaving early, and they are thinking of cancelling the arranged marriage!"

"Good! I don't want to marry her!" Gregory shrieked. "It's not fair!" That's when he felt the sting of the back of his father's hand for himself. He stumbled back, cupping his cheek.

"Don't you talk back to me, boy! Life's not fair! You just have to learn to live with that fact! You're a prince, act like one!" His father huffed. "You may have just cost us the alliance of a lifetime! We would've been the most powerful nation in the world had you simply agreed to marry the girl! For your sake, you'd better hope they change their mind about cancelling! And you can forget about finishing dinner! You're to go straight to bed, and if I hear a single peep out of you before tomorrow, you're going to get it! _Do you understand_?!" When Gregory said nothing, he grabbed the blonde by his arm and yanked him up sharply, causing a cry of pain to escape him. "Do you understand?!"

"Yes!" Gregory sobbed. "Y-yes..." With that, he let go, and Gregory immediately sunk to his knees on the ground. His father turned sharply and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Trembling, Gregory clambered onto his bed and sobbed into the pillow. Christophe stared wide-eyed at him from where he sat on the floor, not having dared get up while Gregory's father was in there. He listened to him for a few moments before standing and walking over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. He let out a sigh, reaching out a hand and placing it on Gregory's sure-to-be bruised cheek. The blonde flinched, turning his face from the pillow slightly to look at him in his peripherals. He sniffled, a shaky whimper escaping him. "Th-thanks f-f-for t...t-trying to...h-help..." He stuttered out through his fading sobs. After a few moments of trying to collect himself, he slowly sat up before tenderly wrapping his arms around Christophe and pulling him into a hug. For once, the boy expected the action. And, for the first time ever, albeit hesitantly, he loosely hugged him back.

"S'il vous plaît, ne pleure pas..." Christophe mumbled into his ear as he rested his chin on the blonde's shoulder. Gregory sniffled as he buried his face in Christophe's neck, leaving wet spots in his shirt from his tears. Christophe didn't know what to do and there was nothing to say, really, so he just continued holding him until he calmed down. He closed his eyes as, after a bit, Gregory finally managed to relax against him, the crying clearly having been a drain on him. He finally seemed to calm down, and when his tears subsided, Christophe opened his eyes slightly. "Good...?" He murmured. Gregory couldn't help but show the faintest of smiles as the boy spoke the single English word, and he tightened his hold on him slightly.

"Good..." He sniffled. Christophe gave a small nod of satisfaction as he separated himself from Gregory. His gaze wandered back to his cheek, where there was now a faint mark that was hardly noticeable. Hopefully, that would be the darkest it gets. Christophe pointed to the blonde's cheek.

"Purple..." He said with a frown. Gregory touched his lightly bruised cheek and winced.

"Yes...I'm not surprised..." He sighed. "At least you're applying your color knowledge correctly." He gave a crooked, halfhearted smile, which looked odd juxtapose to his cheeks that were reddened and streaked with tears. Christophe nodded despite not understanding his statement. He didn't want to frustrate Gregory with their language barrier at a time like this. The blonde rubbed his eyes and yawned, his sobbing having made him drowsy. "I think...I think I want to sleep, now...I want to forget about today, and maybe...maybe tomorrow will be better..." He sniffled. Again, Christophe mindlessly nodded. "Can you get my pajamas...?" Lucky for Christophe, the word for pajamas in his language was almost exactly the same, so that hadn't been a hard word to learn. He slid off of the bed and went to his dresser, pulling out a pale blue, striped, button-up shirt and pants set. Gregory moved to the edge of the bed as Christophe came back and placed it in his hands. "Good choice." Gregory said with a small smile as he started to dress himself. As he slipped his shirt on, he stopped to yawn, and Christophe took the liberty to button his shirt up for him, as he was so used to having to do. Once dressed, Gregory pulled his covers back and settled himself back in his bed, turning his tear-stained pillow over so he wouldn't sleep in discomfort. Seeing that Gregory was finally going to bed, Christophe knew his duties were now over for the day, but as he moved to retreat back to his bed on the floor, he felt a hand grasp his arm, and he turned his head to see Gregory gazing at him with an almost...desperate and pleading expression.

"Oui?" He asked. Did he have another task for him?

"Christophe, I...I'd rather not...sleep alone tonight...I need...comforting...D-do you...want to join me...up here...?" He asked softly. Even his tone was pleading. Christophe tilted his head slightly, but got the message as he felt Gregory lightly tugging his arm towards him. He'd never slept in Gregory's bed before, and the thought seemed almost inconceivable, but he gave a curt nod and clambered onto the bed next to him. This was a task he could manage. The cushioning was almost dreamlike, and Christophe could feel himself almost instantly relax. Gregory seemed relieved that he joined him, but it's not like he technically was allowed to say no. He laid on his side to face the blonde with an almost perplexed expression as the boy took his blankets and covered both of them. "Goodnight, Christophe..." Gregory said tiredly.

"Goodnight." Christophe murmured back as he got comfortable, which wasn't difficult for once, and closed his eyes. However, it wasn't long before he felt two arms snake around him and the feeling of the other's forehead press against his. While surprised by the action, he made no move to break away or even open his eyes. But he did do something that he hadn't since the day he arrived.

_He smiled._


	6. The Heist

After the night that the Cotswolds came to their kingdom hopeful and left unsatisfied, things had grown a little tense between Gregory and his father. A tenseness that never seemed to go away. For, you see, the Cotswolds had cancelled the arrangement in search of something better, and his father couldn't seem to forgive Gregory's actions that had led to such an outcome. Gregory found it unfair that the blame was pinned solely on him, as Rebecca had also stood against the decision.

Because of how thick the air was between Gregory and his father, it wasn't uncommon for squabbles to break out between the two. One would say something snide or smart, and the other would snap back. However, Gregory was never the winner in these, as his father always became physical in the end. He started hitting Gregory more often, so much so that it became something expected. Something Gregory had grown accustomed to. It didn't make the smacks hurt any less, but Gregory did little to prevent them. He was much like his father in that way. Though only eight years of age, he never failed to snap back at someone so above him. He didn't know how to back down from a confrontation. Both of them had too much pride, and Gregory paid for it in bruises. He was just thankful it was usually only one or two smacks and getting sent to bed without dinner. He knew it could be worse.

It wasn't all bad, though.

His mother was far more understanding. She would often try to stop his father from getting physical, and sometimes try to diffuse fights before they could even break out, but she often failed in both endeavors. Gregory's father was strong, and while he never hit his wife, he would push her away from the altercation, and there was little she could do. So, she helped in what ways she could. She became a support system to him, letting him talk to her about how he was feeling, and comforting him after being hit once his father was gone. She even taught him how to use makeup to cover the marks so he could look presentable. She tried her best to be there for him in whatever way she could.

Then, there was Christophe, who played a very similar role to his mother, but better. Someone to talk to. Someone to hug when he was sad. A support system. Christophe even became more open to the idea of physical contact if it meant it would help Gregory feel better, and he even began sleeping in Gregory's bed nearly every night just to keep him company. Gregory was uncertain where his mental state would be without his mother and especially Christophe being there for him the way they were. He surely would have gone mad.

Three months had passed since then, and things still remained this way. The weather took a turn and the transfer in season took place. But as the weather grew colder, the bond between Gregory and Christophe grew warmer. They were starting to more resemble friends than master and servant. Gregory grew more understanding the longer he knew the boy, and Christophe seemed to further warm up to Gregory. He even started speaking more, and with Gregory's rudimentary teachings, Christophe was starting to speak in awkward Franglais, and Gregory managed to pick up on some of Christophe's foreign words because of this as well.

~o~O~o~

"Gregory, qu'est-il arrivé? You okay?" The brunette asked as the blonde walked into his bedroom where he'd temporarily left the servant boy, sniffling and wiping at his eyes with a sleeve. At the question, he looked up with a frown, his eyes red and glossy as a red mark on his cheek that crudely resembled a hand became visible. "Father?" He asked, pointing at his own cheek. Gregory nodded, placing a hand to his reddened cheek. A bruise was sure to be left in its place. Gregory sniffled again as he made his way to his bed and clambered onto it wordlessly. He didn't even bother changing into his pajamas as he pulled the covers over himself. Christophe approached the bed with a frown. "What is now?" He asked. Gregory rubbed his bruised cheek slightly as he flickered his glossy gaze to the brunette.

"I talked back to my father..." He muttered. Christophe cocked his head slightly in confusion. Gregory rolled his eyes before speaking in simpler terms. "Fight. With father." Christophe's eyes lit up a bit in recognition.

_"Fight..."_ He muttered under his breath, as if testing the word on his tongue before looking back at Gregory with a sad expression. "Je suis désolé, Gregory. Shouldn't 'it you."

"Don't be sorry, Christophe..." The blonde sighed. "You didn't do anything..." Christophe looked downward with a frown as he thought.

"Talk of it?" He offered. Talking about it always seemed to help Gregory, even though Christophe knew he likely wouldn't understand half of what the blonde would say. Especially since Gregory seemed to often forget that the boy couldn't piece together sentences longer than just a few words. But he didn't mind. He liked hearing Gregory talk. He liked the sound of his voice. And he knew that, sometimes, it simply helps to talk just to get it off your chest, whether the other can understand your words or not. Gregory pulled his blankets up to his chin with a pout.

"There's not much to talk about..." He mumbled. "Father told me I was stupid for not understanding my studies today, so I got angry and said _he_ was stupid, and he smacked me and sent me to my room...Told me to go to bed without dinner, and I'm terribly hungry..." His brows furrowed as his eyes darkened a bit. Christophe gave a small nod of acknowledgement to show him that, even if he couldn't understand everything, he was _listening. _As Gregory rambled, Christophe noticed that the venting was working and that he was visibly relaxing, but he took it upon himself to try to piece together what he could so he could respond accordingly. Key words he picked up were 'father,' 'hit,' 'bed,' and 'hungry.' He already knew his father had hit him, that was nothing new. He was unsure what the bed had to do with anything, but if the boy was hungry, did it mean his father forbade him from eating?

"Get food?" He suggested.

"I can't, Christophe. Father is angry with me." Gregory sighed. Christophe glanced down, understanding the basic gist of what he was saying. However, he hadn't a chance to respond when a soft knock was heard at the door, but the person didn't wait for a response before they pushed the door open. It was Gregory's mother. She walked in and ushered Christophe away from the bedside as if he were a pest before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Christophe resigned himself to sitting on his own covers on the floor.

"Hey, sweetie..." She said softly to Gregory as she brought a hand up to run her fingers through his hair. Gregory glanced at her with a sad expression, but said nothing. "I'm sorry this keeps happening...But you don't exactly help matters. It's almost as if you _try_ to get under his skin." Gregory pouted at this.

"Well, maybe if he was nicer to me, I would be nicer, too..." He huffed. "He needs to get over that whole arranged marriage thing...It happened so long ago."

"Yes, well, you know how your father likes to hold onto grudges."

"But he shouldn't hold grudges on _me_...I'm his son..."

"He'll...get over it eventually, I'm sure. Just please try to stay on his good side..." His mother pleaded. Gregory looked to her with uncertainty, but he gave a slow nod and a sigh.

"Okay, mother...I'll try." He mumbled. The woman smiled a bit.

"That's my good boy." She said as she leaned down to kiss his forehead. She then glanced over at Christophe for a brief moment before looking back at Gregory. "And do try to keep your servant away from your bed."

"His name is Christophe." Gregory yawned. His mother sighed, but smiled still.

"Right, then. Try to keep _Christophe_ away from your bed. He could track dirt on it." She said.

"Yes, mum..."

"Good boy." She said, brushing her hand through his golden curls once more before standing up from the bed. "I'll help you with your makeup in the morning. Goodnight, dear." She said as she started walking out.

"Goodnight..." Gregory sighed as he watched her leave and close the door behind her. Now alone, Christophe once again joined Gregory at his bedside. "Well, she wasn't much help, was she?" He asked Christophe with a sort of playful tone. Christophe didn't understand, but he smiled ever so slightly in response to the tone of his voice. "You really should smile more." Gregory suddenly said.

"Smile?" Christophe asked. Gregory nodded.

"It suits you." He said as he patted the spot on the bed next to him, which Christophe well knew by now that Gregory wanted him to lay down with him, so he did, despite his mother's wishes. Getting comfortable beside him, he let Gregory pull him into his arms as he usually did. "Mh...I sure am hungry..." Gregory mumbled through another yawn. "Perhaps if I just close my eyes, I can try to sleep through it until breakfast tomorrow." He said softly. Christophe nodded.

"Just rest now..." The brunette boy said softly as Gregory closed his eyes.

~o~O~o~

It wasn't too long after Gregory and Christophe both dozed off that a low growl startled Christophe awake. He blinked himself to awareness, listening for what he assumed to have just been his imagination. But, after a few moments, it came again. Christophe slowly loosened himself from Gregory's hold as he sat up, glancing around. Again, it came, but it was then that he took notice that the growls were coming from Gregory. He looked at the blonde, who he could see faintly with the beams of moonlight that shown through the windows. That's when he realized that it was Gregory's stomach. He was amazed at how loud it was, but even more amazed that Gregory had not woken from it. Christophe furrowed his brows. Gregory must be pretty hungry for it to be that loud. He stared at the blonde boy a moment in thought before looking towards the bedroom door. Gears turned in his head as a plan formulated, and he slowly slid himself from the bed.

He walked towards the door and listened in. It was quiet. Gingerly, he opened the door slowly and stepped out into the hall. He wasn't allowed to be anywhere in the castle without Gregory, except for Gregory's room, that is. So, if he were caught, he would be in serious trouble. But he was Gregory's servant, tasked with caring for the blonde's well-being and wishes. He was going to do his job, whether they liked it or not. He slowly made his way down the hall and to the stairwell. So far, so good. He continued like this down the stairs, stopping and hiding a moment against a wall as a guard walked by. Once the guard had passed, he slipped by. It was a good thing he was a bit small. He snuck down the hall, keeping to the shadows as he made his way towards the royal mess hall, where Gregory and his parents, as well as the advisors, ate their meals. He had never once set foot in there, but that didn't quell his daring escapade.

He slunk into the mess hall, heading towards the kitchen, but it was then that he heard voices. He panicked and moved against the wall near the doorway of the kitchen, pressing himself against it and keeping to the shadows on the wall. He furrowed his brows a bit as he listened in.

"Is it really that big of a deal?" Came a familiar male voice.

"Yes! I'm so sick of it." Another voice, this one female. Christophe peered around the corner to see if he could spot who was speaking. He caught glimpse of what appeared to be the two advisors, Thomas and Estella. It sounded like they were arguing.

"Estella, you're one of the highest ranking individuals in the castle. What more can you want? Why can't you just do your job and be happy with it?"

"Because, Thomas, I am _one_ of the highest ranking individuals. Not _the_ highest ranking."

"Be thankful for what you have. I know what it's like to come from nothing. My parents didn't want me and they - _Shit!_ \- shoved me onto the doorstep of the castle when I was little. I was lucky enough to be taken under the wing of the king and queen, so I am more than - _Fuck!_ \- grateful for my position, and I wouldn't dare ask for more. You were lucky enough to be born into it. You're blinded by entitlement."

"Is it wrong to aspire to be something greater?"

"It's wrong to take what you have for granted. Would you rather be a servant? I mean, we are second to the king and queen. What more could you want?" Thomas asked. Christophe jumped a bit when he heard a slam of dishware clattering to the floor, following by Thomas shushing her.

"Wrong! We are not! You know who else is above us? That little blonde brat! Talk about entitlement!" Estella hissed. "That is what really gets me, you know? The fact that a child - _a child_ \- can tell us what to do! Someone who is literally _half my age_. A single word from his stupid mouth, and we would no longer be advisors! That is why I desire to be more!"

"But he is the prince. The future king. One day, we will be answering to him and only him, so you'd better get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it! I am worthy of more than being a king's lapdog!" She spat. Christophe could hear Thomas attempt to shush her again.

"Such talk can be seen as treasonous, Estella. Let's not let anyone hear you, now." Thomas sighed. "Come. Perhaps a late night walk in the garden will calm your nerves."

"I don't need calming, Thomas."

"You most certainly do, lest you wake the whole castle up. Come on. It's less likely you will be heard while we're outside."

"As if the castle isn't already woken by your tic." Christophe panicked as he heard them start walking towards the doorway where he was, and he quickly pressed himself back against the wall to try to blend in with the shadows once more. No sooner had he done that did he see Thomas exit the kitchen, then Estella. They passed him, but Estella stopped a moment, taking a glance around. Christophe held his breath as he remained motionless. Thomas stopped and looked back at her. "What is it?" Estella was silent for a moment as she took one last look around before shaking her head.

"Come on, let's go. I feel like I'm being watched-" She muttered as she turned back towards him and continued on. Once they turned down the hall and were out of sight, Christophe exhaled deeply and let himself relax. He waited a moment to see if they were really gone before quickly darting into the kitchen. He wondered what that whole confrontation had been about. He wished he could have understood everything that they had said rather than just bits and pieces that he couldn't piece together. Once he was in the kitchen, he glanced around, making sure the coast was clear before proceeding to start opening cabinets and drawers, looking for whatever he could find for Gregory. In one drawer, he found a white cloth. He pulled it out and examined it for a moment before laying out out flat on the floor. He then continued his search until he found a pantry. He pulled the door to it open, and his eyes suddenly widened at the sight. Sacks of vegetables and grain, various teas, breads, and jams. But one case in particular caught his attention. It was full of sweets. Pies, cakes, sweet rolls, a jar of cookies, and other assortments. He grinned to himself as he grabbed the cookie jar and pulled it from the shelf, setting it on the cloth. He then grabbed a couple sweet rolls, some bread, a jar of jam, and set them all together in the cloth. Though, before he could make off with it, he suddenly felt eyes on him, and he froze in place, glancing up. There stood a boy in the doorway, who was staring at Christophe. Though, in the darkness, he couldn't see who it was. The figure hesitantly stepped closer and more into the moonlight from the window, only to reveal that it was none other than little 5-year-old Philip. Christophe instantly relaxed and gave a relieved sigh. The little blonde boy stared at him and the treats questioningly. Christophe offered him a small smile as he put a finger to his mouth to prompt him to keep quiet about this before moving to open the cookie jar. He took out five cookies and held them out to Philip. The other servant slowly stepped forward and took the cookies into his hands, gazing down at them curiously as if he had never seen a cookie before. He then looked back up at Christophe and smiled back as he took a bite out of one of them.

"No tell." He whispered to Philip. The blonde child shook his head in confirmation that it would be their little secret. Christophe ushered Philip from the kitchen, then grabbed the corners of the cloth and tied them together to make a sort of makeshift sack to carry the items before heaving it up and taking them with him, heading back towards the stairwell and towards Gregory's room. He wasn't able to be as sneaky with what he was carrying, so he just had to pray he didn't get caught. He did, eventually, make it back to the room with little tribulation, where he closed and locked the door. He set the cloth on the ground and walked over to the bed, gently shaking Gregory. The young prince groaned softly in his sleep as he tried to shove Christophe away. The brunette scoffed and shook him a bit harder. This caused Gregory to wake up with a small growl, turning over to face his servant.

"What is it?" He hissed grumpily, clearly a bit hangry. Christophe only smiled at him as he beckoned him to leave the bed. Gregory sighed as he sat up and lit the candelabra on his nightstand before getting up from the bed. "You'd better have a good reason for waking me up this late-" He yawned. Christophe simply nodded as he grabbed Gregory's hand and led him over to the middle of the room, where the sack sat. He untied the top and the cloth fell flat, revealing what he had taken. Gregory's eyes widened. "Christophe, what...what is this?" He asked.

"Hungry. I take. You eat." He said with an accomplished smile. Gregory looked at Christophe with a perplexed expression.

"You stole all this...for me? You would have been killed had you been found out..." Gregory stated. Christophe simply shrugged. Gregory's expression then softened, and he moved to wrap his arms around Christophe. "Thank you..." He purred. Christophe loosely hugged the other boy back before they separated, and Gregory sat down next to the food. Christophe sat beside him with a small smile as Gregory grabbed a sweet roll and took a large bite, his expression showing great relief the moment he did. He then grabbed the other and offered it to Christophe. "Here, you deserve it." He said. Christophe looked between Gregory and the roll he was being offered, and he smiled a bit wider as he took it gratefully.

"Merci." He said before taking a small bite. It was certainly different from the food he was used to eating, and he savored every bite.

"I knew you were the best servant ever." Gregory cooed playfully as he gently nudged Christophe's side, earning him a chuckle from the foreign boy. The two spent the next few hours eating the treats Christophe had procured, and simply enjoying each others' company, eventually eating themselves into a food coma and passing out together on the floor.


	7. The Guilt

"Well, one of you did it, and I'm going to find out who!" The king ranted as he had Gregory, Christophe, Thomas, Estella, and Philip all lined up with their backs to a wall as he paced in front of them. "Someone left the pantry door open, and things had been taken. I'd hate to think one of my advisors were foolish enough to do something like this. So, then, I would like if whoever did it to just plead their guilt now before _everyone_ gets punished!" He snapped. Philip couldn't help but steal a glance at Christophe as these words were spoken, but he didn't make it obvious. Thomas and Estella shared confused glances. Gregory and Christophe were sweating bullets, but remained calm. "No one? For any thinking it as not being a big deal, I'll have you know that those desserts had been made the previous night for an important meeting over dinner following the arrival of a very important representative from overseas, and that is happening _today_!" All five winced at his tone. Christophe grew more nervous as Philip kept glancing at him. If he kept it up, the king would notice, and that would be it for him.

"How do you know it was _any _of us?" Estella spoke up. "Could it not have been one of the guards, or perhaps one of the other servants?" The king stopped in front of her and narrowed his eyes.

"One of the guards saw you and Thomas leave the mess hall. That is not a problem in itself because I trust the two of you. But you two are still suspect because you were there. Your servant, my son, and his servant all have a tendency to do what they're not supposed to do. That is why I am only questioning the lot of you." He then leaned closer to Estella. "Why say anything at all, though? Are you trying to shift blame?" Estella lowered her gaze to the ground in a submissive manner.

"No, sir...I merely thought it a possibility. I can say with certainty that not I, nor Thomas, took anything." She replied. The king stared at her for a moment as if gauging whether or not she was lying before moving on.

"Right, then. If no one comes forth, then I will have to raise the stakes. Since no one wants to admit, then you _all_ shall receive lashes." He hissed. The five of them stiffened, and the advisors looked like they wanted to plead their innocence further, but they knew the king wanted a confession, not a plead. Christophe, having gained the basic gist of what was going on, and he certainly knew the word "lashes," he figured, perhaps, if he did confess, it would lessen the king's anger due to his honesty, and he wouldn't get a very punishable sentence. But he also knew the possibility existed that it could be very bad for him if the king knew it was him. Only one way to find out. He began to lift his hand to gain the attention of the king, Gregory giving him a horrified look as he did, but before he could gain the king's attention, a voice was heard.

"I did it!" Everyone looked over at little Philip, who had his hand raised. He cast a quick glance towards Christophe before looking back towards the king. Christophe's eyes widened. The man walked over to Philip and towered over him with a fierce expression. "I was...hungry...and so I snuck into the kitchen...and I stole the food..."

"Was it _only _you?" He asked.

"...Y-yes. Only me." The small boy said softly. Christophe was in utter shock at Pip's actions. What was that blonde idiot thinking?! The king's eyes darkened a bit, and he suddenly grabbed Philip by the arm quite tightly, one could assume, due to the sharp yelp that escaped the little blonde boy. Christophe moved to stop him, guilt driving his thought process, but he felt Gregory's hand on his shoulder, the young prince's silent way of telling him to keep quiet. How could he just sit here and do nothing while Philip took the blame for something he didn't do?

"Estella, your servant needs correcting. Take him outside. Ten lashes." He demanded.

"Yes, sir." Estella said without hesitation as the king held the boy out to her, and she grabbed his arm, dragging her poor servant behind her down the hall. He then looked to his other advisor.

"Thomas, rally all of the other servants and waitstaff and bring them out to watch so that an example can be made of him. That way, they may see I am not one to be trifled with."

"Yes, sir." Thomas responded as he looked towards Christophe, beckoning for him to follow. Christophe gave a worried look to Gregory, and Gregory shook his head subtly as if to tell him to say nothing and go along with it. "Come on!" Thomas said impatiently as he grabbed Christophe by his collar and yanked him away from Gregory, pulling him down the hall as well. All that was left standing there with his father was Gregory. He looked to his son with a cold gaze.

"Take that as a lesson, Gregory. Never give your servants an inch. If you treat them too well, or allow them too much leeway, they will act out or think they can do as they please, much like her servant did. Estella is too soft on him, and now look what happened."

"Yes, sir, I know." Gregory said.

"No, Gregory, you don't know. Don't think I don't see you hold hands with or embrace your servant from time to time."

"His name is Christophe." Gregory interjected, furrowing his brows.

"His name is unimportant, he is a servant. Now, listen to me, you can't let your servant think-"

"_His name is Christophe._"

"_Do not interrupt me, boy, unless you'd like to go to your room without dinner again_." The king hissed. After a moment of silence from Gregory, the man continued. "Good. Now, you can't let him think that he is equal to you, and if you are hugging him, holding his hand, or talking to him in a neutral manner instead of down to him, he will think he is like you, and he isn't. You are a prince. He is a servant. You need to remember that, and you need to consistently remind _him_ of that. Do you understand?" He asked. Gregory furrowed his brows defiantly as he remained silent, which only angered the king. He suddenly brought a hand sharply across Gregory's face. "You will answer when I ask you something! Now, _do you understand_?!" He snapped. Normally, Gregory would have snapped back and made the situation worse, but he had promised his mother that he would try not to exacerbate altercations with his father anymore. So, placing a hand on his cheek, he exhaled deeply, looking down towards the ground submissively.

"Yes, sir..." He mumbled. His father huffed in satisfaction.

"Good. Now, go to your room, and don't come out until dinner has been prepared." He said. Gregory didn't reply as, while still holding his cheek, he turned and wordlessly made his way back to his room.

~o~O~o~

It hadn't been long before the sound of his bedroom door opening could be heard. Gregory sat up from his bed and looked to see Christophe stalk in, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. It was rare for Christophe to show much emotion at all, and Gregory had certainly never seen him cry before. Yet, here he was, tears in his eyes. Gregory, concern riddling his expression, slid from his bed and walked over, closing the door and taking Christophe into his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay..." He said softly. "What's wrong...?" Christophe whimpered as he actually leaned entirely into Gregory, desperate for comfort as he cried lightly into his shoulder.

"Comment pourraient-ils faire ça...? Comment peuvent-ils le traiter si horriblement...? J'étais censé avoir des ennuis, pas lui...Il n'a rien fait de mal...Comment je pu rester sans rien dire...? Pourquoi ne les ai-je pas arrêtés...? Pourquoi n'ai-je rien dit...? J'ai entendu ses cris alors qu'il était fouetté...Aucun son ne m'a a déjà autant hanté..." Christophe just continued to whimper and mumble things Gregory couldn't even begin to translate, but he still comforted him, rubbing his back and shushing him in an attempt to calm him down.

"It was having to watch Philip get whipped, wasn't it...?" He asked softly. He sighed, leaning away from Christophe as he brought a hand to the other boy's cheek, brushing some of the tears away with his thumb. "It's okay...It's okay..." He said softly. Christophe was trembling slightly as he just let Gregory wipe his tears away. He'd never seen Christophe in such a state. Was it witnessing an innocent young boy get brutally whipped that did him in? Or had it been the overwhelming guilt of it having been his actions that led this to happen, made even worse by the fact that he didn't speak up that it had actually been him? Perhaps it was both. Christophe was always so stoic and never let anything affect him, so seeing him like this was almost unnatural. It was a reminder to him that, no matter how brave of a face Christophe put on, he was still just a little kid like him, and things could still get to him.

"Guilty..." Christophe whimpered, shaking his head. "Guilty...guilty...guilty..." Was all he seemed to be able to string together in his emotional state. Gregory offered him a soft look as he lightly stroked the foreign boy's cheek in a comforting manner.

"Hey, it's okay...Philip volunteered himself to protect you...He probably knew the consequences he would receive, but he still did it to make sure you don't get in trouble..."

"Stupide..." Christophe hissed softly.

"Stupid? You or Philip?"

"Both...Philip stupid...et I stupid for stay quiet..."

"Don't say that..." Gregory said softly. "This is how Philip preferred it to go...You can't feel guilty for a decision _he_ made..." Christophe sniffled.

"Can't 'elp..." The brunette boy said softly as he shook his head again. Gregory sighed. It seemed there was no comforting Christophe in the state he was in. He probably just needed to rest, and he'd likely be better once he did.

"Come on, Christophe, you'll feel better if you lie down." He said softly as he slid his hand down Christophe's arm and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards his bed. He clambered up onto it before pulling the other boy up with him. The blonde offered him a smile, but Christophe simply looked away with a defeated expression. "Come on, Christophe, relax." Gregory said, lying down and patting the spot beside him. Christophe didn't move for a moment, as if he were lost in thought. But after a bit, he sighed softly and allowed himself to lie beside Gregory, facing towards him. "There you go. Now, get some sleep. You'll feel better once you're rested up." He said as he wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him close. Christophe gave him a bit of a skeptical look, but with a final sniffle and wipe of his eyes, the boy finally closed his eyes to attempt to fall asleep. Gregory kept close to him the entire time, watching over him and serving as a source of comfort. It wasn't long before the worry lines on Christophe's face ceased, and his expression relaxed, letting Gregory know he had finally fallen asleep. He smiled a bit and brought a hand up to the back of Christophe's head, gently running his fingers through his messy, brown locks. And, to think, such a big deal over some pastries.


End file.
